


Crave

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 10:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: "Do you have any idea how fuckingcuteyou are? Cute enough tofuck"





	Crave

**Author's Note:**

> 2015 fic
> 
> this was me being my own hero

Sehun's nervous, jittery, on edge, naked, _trembling_. His fists clench and unclench in his own sheets. Low threadcount, they scrape against his overheated palms. There's a puff of air near his ear, lips at his throat, fingers at his hipbones, around his wrists—searing, posssseive—and Sehun can't fucking help the moan that tears itself out of his throat. So affected, so fast, still so fucking _nervous_.

They'd asked him not to be. Asked him to lose himself in it. Tell them to stop if it's too much. Too fast. Not what he wants after all.

And it's not that he hasn't before. Chanyeol, he has with Chanyeol on _multiple_ occasions.

But Chanyeol was pure adoration, heartstopping, breathtaking enthusiasm. Not a performance. Not an evaluation. Not a want and need this deep, this disarming.

Just heat, just discovery, just pleasure.

No, Chanyeol, his lips sealed tight and plush around Sehun's cock. Alternately, his cock in Sehun's mouth. Sehun's fist. Sehun's ass. New, new, too. But a comfortable, clumsy sort of trial and error. Learning by doing. Rewarded with orgasms, sloppy touches, beautifully praising kisses, Chanyeol's low, low hums in the afterglow.

Chanyeol, his roommate, the _ideal_ fuckbuddy. Kind and enthusiastic and accomodating and soft, so fucking _soft_. So fucking _safe_. So excited to _teach_.

And _that_ —sex with Chanyeol—had been easy, if not a little clumsy. Eager. Enthusiastic.Hot, hot, hot.

Mutual need, it's different. It hadn't felt anything like this.

 

Right now Sehun is pinned with a look, with a want, helpless, desperate, Kyungsoo's lips teasing down down down towards his sternum, his nipples, Joonmyun's at his throat, humming in approval at Sehun's breathless gasps, heavy moans.

They'd promised to take care of him. Promised to make this feel _so_ fucking good, Sehun. So fucking amazing. Really we've wanted. We've wanted to make you feel so fucking _good_.

He does. He _does_.

He's fucking dizzy with it. And he's been on edge since Joonmyun proposed this. Has been hard since Kyungsoo pushed him into bed and kissed him breathless as Joonmyun peeled off his clothes. Leaving him naked and vulnerable and eager for more.

 

They had met three months ago at Sehun's first college party. Celebrating midterms in their off campus apartment, they'd invited Chanyeol, Chanyeol's roommate, assorted college others.

They're together, had been together then, too. Pressed together with a certain comfortable familiarity, wearing couple rings, but matching lingering smiles as they'd shaken Sehun's hand, repeated his name. Sehun had been worrying over his jeans, his hair, sipping secretively from his red solo cup, bobbing his head to keep time with the music, lingering a little awkwardly by Chanyeol's louder, more boisterous, much more comfortable side.

Sehun, he was still navigating sex, learning to accept that he'd grown into his features, that apparently he had the kind of face and body you just really want to fuck. Sehun, intercepting their gazes, he'd been drawn. Helpless to it. Confusion and arousal and intoxication mixing into something dark and hot and vaguely pathetic in the face of such _blatant_ desire. Something that had had Sehun tugging Chanyeol into a closet, falling to his knees to blow him, release the built up tension as Chanyeol tugged his hair, whispered his name.

But they were, weren't they—

"Open," Chanyeol had divulged in a soft, scandalized whisper that night. After a particularly hot, heavy makeout session, lips tingling as they brushed his, smiling into their almost kisses, eyes crinkling in amusement as Sehun murmured lazily about Chanyeol's friend had seemed nice. "They're open, and it looks like they _want_ you, ugly duckling. Want to steal you from your rightful home here, right between my arms."

Chanyeol's tone had been casual and soft, light, even as his fingers had traced the bruises he'd sucked onto Sehun's throat, wide, wet eyes catching Sehun's in a silent, heavy, solemn question.

"It's a good chance for you, though. To spread your kinky wings. Fly away to greener pastures," Chanyeol had decided after starting at him for a long, long beat.

Sehun had squirmed, and Chanyeol had laughed, dragged him back to stamp a loud kiss against Sehun's throat, his jawline, Sehun melting so easily into his safe, safe affections.

"But I know for a _fact_ , they'd eat you alive. Swallow you _whole_. And you're still very much _mine_."

Not to be outdone, Chanyeol had reassured himself in a way, by tugging Sehun's jeans to midthigh, swallowing him down a soft hum, dreamy-eyed enthusiasm.

Safe.

 

Sehun, he had given them his number at that party. His Kakao ID, too. Kyungsoo, a year older, a Philosophy major, too, he had offered to help him with his term paper. Give him advice on the best classes to take, which professors were already his favorite. And Joonmyun, as his boyfriend, had offered to tag along.

There had been something maybe—definitely, _decidedly_ —deliberate in that coffee date. In every subsequent coffee date, movie date, casual dinner thereafter. Something in every text message from either party, ending with winky emojis, ellipses. Heavy and just slightly strained, in a growing into your new limbs kind of way.

Courting, they'd been courting.

 

Sehun, he'd brought it up to Chanyeol over dinner one night, side by side on their end table, his chopsticks swirling listlessly, pensively, as he'd recounted how Joonmyun—just Joonmyun hyung this time, over hot wings, pizza—how he'd reached forward to cup Sehun's cheek, thumb lingering near his mouth, hesitance in his tone, in his touch. As he'd told him, he'd fucking told him, _I don't want to scare you, Sehun, but I kind of want you. We—Kyungsoo and I—we kind of want you. We're asking because we think it could be really amazing_. And really how was Sehun supposed to react to that. He'd never, he'd never done anything like that before. He'd never even thought that—I mean, he knew that people did, but for him and for Joonmyun hyung to just be so _heavy_ about it. Honestly, Sehun, what was he supposed to _say_.

Chanyeol, ever helpful, he had only laughed, pressed it into Sehun's shoulder. "You're so cute when you're flustered," he had observed. "Fuck, no wonder they want you, too."

Sehun had flushed, hidden his eyes behind his bangs, poking a little more maliciously at his ramen. "That doesn't answer my question," he had muttered, lip catching between his teeth.

And Chanyeol's next touch had been even more distressingly, disgustingly affectionate. "Well," he has started, tone delicate, "I mean, that really depends on whether or not you want them to fuck you, Sehun."

 _I don't know_.

 

 **Kakao Group Chat 3**  
To: Kyungsoo, Joonmyun  
_ok_

 

That had been a week ago.

This has been a week in the making.

 

In the present, Sehun is still trembling, still reeling. Splayed open like this, he feels like he's been put on display. Evaluated. He's found enough, he knows. He can feel the burning approval in their hot gazes, the appraisal in Joonmyun's goosebump inducing caress, Kyungsoo's lingering kiss. But he still feels small in the scrutiny. He still bears the scars of teenage awkwardness, years as an ugly duckling. He still feels the phantom ache of acne scars, long buried insecurities, memories of awful fumbling attempts at seduction. Not being quite what people wanted.

It's not the case anymore, Chanyeol has reassured him. Dozens of times. Verbally. But also physically.

He's hot now, he _knows_. He's good at sex now, he _knows_.

And yet he's burning. He's burning.

And they—Kyungsoo and Joonmyun—they just keep cataloging, touches and kisses and looks pointed and possessive and precise.

It's not like Sehun hasn't been touched before, hasn't found his own sensitive parts, but somehow, somehow with this exquistely slow, slow exploration, everything becomes extra sensitive.

Kyungsoo's, Joonmyun's mouths, tongues, teeth, fingers, they're different. They touch, affect in a dizzingly new way, too. Unfamiliar but quick, nimble and skilled. And Sehun is hypersensitive to every passing caress. So loud and responsive.

"You're so cute," Kyungsoo groans appreciately, and Sehun flushes, eyes fluttering as Kyungsoo follows it with a particularly delicious caress, lips dragging down his chest, tongue swirling along taut skin.

Joonmyun's hands abandon their station at his wrists, skates down his chest, linger in the light hair on Sehun's navel, thumbnail dragging as his fingers trail even further in the most maddeningly teasing way. Joonmyun, not one to be outdone, is pressing compliments, too. Into the seam of his thigh, just shy of his cock.

"Knobby knees," Joonmyun murmurs, tongue swirling to lick up up up. His teeth scrape against Sehun's inner thigh. "Soft skin." He continues upwards, mouthing at Sehun's balls, breath rushing out in a heated laugh at the helpless way that Sehun shudders, moans.

Sehun, he's not gonna last. Wasn't meant to.

"So _cute_ ," Kyungsoo compliments again, gliding up to Sehun's mouth, coaxing him into a kiss, tongue sliding out to brush his mouth, lips catching on the sharp ridge of Sehun's braces. "Do you have any idea how fucking _cute_ you are?" And Joonmyun's settling more comfortably between Sehun's quivering legs, his lips grazing the base of his erection with a low, low sound. Sehun moans helplessly into Kyungsoo's open mouth, blunt fingernails scraping helplessly along the soft cotton of Kyungsoo's shirt. "Cute enough to _fuck_."

"Please—" Sehun moans, arching purposefully but weakly, _needily_. "Don't—don't stop."

Joonmyun's painting his cock with cursory kitten licks, tongue hot and wet, fluttering against his throbbing flesh, and Sehun's thighs tremble, eyebrows pinching, body tensing at the teasing pressure, teasing pleasure.

"Want to break you," Kyunsoo breathes, pressing even tighter, eyes heavy on Sehun's. His tone is reverent, almost incredulous. "Want to make you _cry_."

Sehun whimpers. Has to look away, focus instead on the heartbreaking red of Kyungsoo's swollen lips, the heaving hitch of Kyungsoo's own labored breathing, the quick, quick way his pale, dotted chest expands and contracts.

Sensory overload. It's all sensory overload.

Joonmyun's nails drag down his thighs, whispering his name. Sehun's neck lolls to the side at the caress, and the sight is almost too much. Joonmyun is flushed, too, eyes dark, lips red and ruined, dragging in a teasingly succulent kiss. Joonmyun's lips are swollen, too, so fucking _red_. Not from kissing Sehun, though. But from the teasing brush of his lips against Sehun's thigh, his cock.

And fuck. He has to look away, eyelashes fluttering heavily as he bites his lower lip.

"Want to fuck you," Kyungsoo continues. "Want to—fuck—want to ride you, too. Hold you down, while I fuck myself on your cock."

Sehun's eyes clench shut, jaw slackening with a long, long moan at the prospect. The thought of Kyungsoo's hands at his shoulders, Kyungsoo pliant and soft and warm on his lap, Kyungsoo moaning into his neck as he takes him over and over and over again. " _Fuck_ , hyung."

And Kyungsoo's laugh is so strained, wrecked. His tone raspy, thick with desire.

"Joonmyun, he could take your mouth," Kyungsoo muses, low and husky. "Come across that pretty, pretty face. Mark you _up_."

Joonmyun hums his approval. And then he's suckling Sehun's cock fully into his mouth, gliding down smooth and perfect, and Sehun is moaning again, burying it in Kyungsoo's neck now. His hand snakes down weakly, fingers dragging over Joonmyun's bobbing head. Trying desperately to ground himself as the elder glides quickly up and down, lips sealed tight and unforgiving, dragging deliciously along his flushed, pulsing arousal. His hands tangle into Joonmyun's hair, tug at it desperately, and Joonmyun moans against the skin. In encouragement, in ruin.

"I've thought about this, you know," Joonmyun breathes between sucks, stroking now, teasing now. "Touched myself thinking about this."

Sehun's fingers tighten onto Kyungsoo's shoulders, and he groans. Wondering what that must look like. What they must look like. If they're this cruel, teasing, hard with one another. Or if this is special. If he's their indulgence

"What else?" Sehun gasps, rasps. "What else?"

"I've thought about eating you out. Licking you open." And Joonmyun's finger ghosts in a lazy promise, callouses catching, dragging, testing. "Fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my cock." His lips pop on the last word, dragging against the crown of Sehun's cock, and Sehun's hips jump, chasing the fleeting friction.

Joonmyun's fingers close around his hipbones, force them down hard, grip almost bruising.

" _Fuck_ ," he manages. "Please. Hyung. _Please_."

Joonmyun's groan is a low rumble against his hip.

Quick, so fucking quick to follow through.

He tucks a pillow beneath Sehun's bare ass, murmuring something about finding the most optimum angle, admiring the view. "Hold your legs up," he orders, and the flush on Sehun's skin spreads to his sternum, his chest, heat suffusing his entire body. "Fuck," he praises softly, fingers whisper-soft against his skin, spreading slowly, easing open. "You've got the most _amazing_ ass, Sehunnie." Joonmyun spares a bite, lingering and hot, just shy of his entrance, and Kyungsoo is there to catch Sehun's moan again, drink it down with a heady kiss, tongue teasing at the seam of his mouth as Sehun trembles in his hold. Joonmyun scrapes his teeth, teases his thumb again, his thumbnail catching on the pucker of Sehun's entrance.

So good, already so fucking _good_.

Kyungsoo's own thumbs graze Sehun's lashlines, coaxing his eyes open again. And Sehun wonders briefly, deliriously, how eyes so wide and innocent, how lips so full and beautiful, how they can be so fucking filthy, so fucking devastating. "Hang on for the ride," he whispers.

And then Joonmyun's tongue is dancing at his entrance. Perfect. So perfect. He's lapping, wide, but fleeting stripes of moisture, heat, pleasure. He's curling both toward and away from the pleasure, a new heady sensation. Lost, so lost to it.

Joonmyun's still circling, slurping, his tongue easing slowly, slowly, slowly before Sehun's body is opening, giving way. Joonmyun fucks his tongue inside, and Sehun can't breathe, somehow still manages to beg.

Sehun's mouth parts to make room for further moans, legs tremblings in his sweaty grip, his hips tipping forward in wanton invitation, control slipping as he fists his sheets. "Please," he begs. " _Please_."

Kyungsoo bites on the jut of shoulder, traces his fingers down the taut, trembling skin of his navel, down, down, down to lazily circle his cock. Further down, his tangles his hand in Joonmyun's hair, forcing him harder. And Joonmyun moans _inside_ him at the pressure, his breath rushing hot, heavy against Sehun's skin. He disengages briefly with a gasping breath but returns almost immediately. Fucking his tongue further inside, gliding it just right.

"Say 'more,'" Kyungsoo urges. "Tell him you want more. Tell him you want him to ruin you with his tongue. Tell him you'll be touching yourself to the memory of this for months. Tell him how badly you want to come already. How you probably can if he keeps this up, right, Sehunnie? Just from his tongue, he's so _good_."

Sehun manages somehow in an embarassing whine, and Joonmyun is spearing his tongue now, searching and searing, probing deliberately, his fingers still stretching to hold Sehun open for it. Sehun's head collapses back with a hitching sob, body tensing through every delicious fuck forward.

"More," he's pleading. "More, please, more."

The popping of the plastic lid is loud, resounding, and there are fingers easing then, too, stretching, testing. Joonmyun's fingers and his tongue working in tandem. They have him a helpless, quivering, too-loud mess.

He shifts to suck bruises on Sehun's inner thighs, focuses wholly on pumping his fingers inside, dragging them in a searching caress. The pleasure when he finds that spot, it's staggering. Has him moaning even louder, shuddering so violently that Kyungsoo laughs as he glides down his body, licking his way down Sehun's skin. "Hold on," he reminds him, pressing it against his hipbone. He's astride him, body warm and soft against Sehun's navel, his thigh, humming against him.

Sehun, he can't help but moan.

Joonmyun moans in turn, too, and it vibrates deliciously against Sehun's thigh. His legs tremble, jerk, and Joonmyun presses a smirk to his ass cheek, redoubles his efforts.

"Good," Joonmyun's asking or reassuring. He really can't be sure.  
Sehun moans his assent nonetheless.

"What do you want?" Joonmyun clarifies. "Tell me what you want."

"Use 'please'," Kyungsoo cuts in.

And his fingers, they're more solid thick, dragging, pointed in their movement and precise, but not as warm, not as wet, not as hot.

"Tongue, please. Your fucking _tongue_ , hyung."

Joonmyun hums in acknowledgement, goes back, and Sehun's entire body trembles with the onslaught of pleasure. So good. So wet. So perfect. He's so perfect.

Kyungsoo, meanwhile, he's licking almost lazily at Sehun's cock, flitting in barely theres, barely enoughs before there's overwhelming heat, searing pleasure. His mouth, Sehun registers lazily, it's almost like it was _made_ for this. He eases into it, teasing and slow, humming as he drags his lips slow and wet. 

Sehun's head lolls forward to watch, his jaw slack, chin crashing against his sternum. Dual pleasure, dual sensation. So much. Too much.

Like this, his body can't decide which way to press, his mouth can't decide whose name to moan. So he stumbles through an attempt at both.

"I could really do this all day," Joonmyun groans into his skin. "Could eat you out all fucking _day_."

"Could. Has," Kyungsoo confirms, and he's licking, too, dragging his tongue wide and wet and warm along the underside of , humming as he swirls at the crown. He catches Sehun's eyes, smears his plump, perfect lips with the moisture collecting at the very tip as his fingernails graze his sac. "Tell him you want him to. Tell him you want him to ruin you for anybody else," he coaches.

"I do, hyung. I want it so—fuck—want it so _bad_."

Jabbing now, heaving, pressing against every groove, every corner. So good. So fucking _good_.

"Joonmyun, he likes it when you're loud. When you moan just for him," Kyungsoo murmurs, words wet, warm against his cock. "Likes it when you say "fuck" and "more" and "please, hyung, please," but I, I like when you squirm. Try to hold back but still can't quite fucking help it. Have to fuck forward just a little too hard, make me choke just a little bit on your cock as you pull my hair."

There's a filthy promise in the luster of his black, black eyes. _Try, fucking try, Oh Sehun_.

Kyungsoo's arm is soft, but solid against Sehun, holding him still, arresting his movements. And Sehun can't help it even then, pressing back mindlessly against the unforgiving pressure, seeking out more, aching to be further inside, thrusting hard into the wet, warm perfection of Kyungsoo's mouth. "So soft," he groans, pulling away, swirling the compliment against the crown of his cock. "So soft and flustered and eager to please. But look at how pleasure makes you desperate and forceful and hard. You're so beautiful like this."

Joonmyun pulls away just long enough to agree.

And _fuck, fuck fuck_.

Sehun writhes down harder onto Joonmyun's tongue, muscles undulating, reduced to pure need, seeking out only pleasure.

Kyungsoo releases his grip on Sehun's waist, gags on his cock as Sehun surges forward.

And Sehun bows suddenly, sharply, sobbing out. Spirals of pleasure, they're climbing higher and higher and higher, drowning out everything but _this_ , but warmth, but pleasure. And he's right on the cusp. Right on the edge. Just just _just_ —

Everything shatters.

His eyes clench shut, mouth falls open, body collapses, and he screams with it.

 

In the haze, he feels himself being maneuvered, rearranged, a mess of trembling puppet limbs.

He gropes out in gratitude, fingers tangling in fabric, dragging forward until his mouth is crashing against somebody's. Kyungsoo's. Kyungsoo kisses back, cups his face, surprising affectionate, tender considering how insistently he's grinding against Sehun's bare stomach.

"Fuck," he groans. And behind him, Joonmyun laughs, hand winding around his waist, tugging him further back, mouthing at his shoulder, biting down.

"Yes, _fuck_ ," Joonmyun agrees in a husky whisper. "But maybe later."

Sehun's hand gropes back, the heel of his palm dragging against the ridge of Joonmyun's clothed cock.

His movements are unsure, restricted, clumsy and awkward, but good apparently, good enough at least from the way that Joonmyun is moaning into his shoulderblade, writhing upward.

At his front, Kyungsoo is coaxing him into another kiss, Kyungsoo's lips catching on his own, tongue dragging against his in a wet, slick heat. He's releasing breathy sighs into his mouth. His shirt has ridden up, and Sehun can feel the jump of muscles beneath Kyungsoo's skin, the soft responses his body is provoking.

Like before, his body doesn't know quite which way to press, mouth doesn't know whose name to moan.

But they answer that question for him, then, sandwiching him tight, trapping him as they bite out their nearly twin orgasms against his skin, stealing the breath from his lungs.


End file.
